Page 94 of Hot Girl Summer

Fifteen attempts and countless change later, Danny is still at a loss, and I can sense his frustration. In that time, he’s managed to move the Jack Russell out of the way, and is making short bursts of progress in lining up the King Charles for the chute.

“Hey, take a break,” I say.

“I’ve almost got it.”

I sigh and lean against the glass. My tummy rumbles, making me wish we had eaten earlier, instead of setting the rest of our seafood forage aside in the refrigerator to reheat later. The fire behind his eyes makes it clear he isn’t ready to call it quits anytime soon.

Minutes pass, and by the umpteenth attempt, I finally sense his gumption waning, like a marathon runner hitting their proverbial wall. I should have told him after the first few pound coins he dropped in that his machine was clearly rigged—the claw on his one has a much looser grip than the one I used.

“I think it’s about time you cut your losses, cowboy.”

“Just a bit longer. I promise,” he says, sweat beading his brow.

His eyes never leave the glass.

“Look, I’m all for being your personal cheerleader, but I’m hungry, and it’s pretty clear that machine is a scam.”

He slams his hands on the navigation buttons in defeat. I jolt, and his eyes fall to the floor.

“I just want—no, I need—today to be perfect.”

“I don’t need some ridiculous stuffed animal, Danny.”

I place my hand over his, and he looks up to meet my gaze.

I need you.

He looks as vulnerable as the day I met him at the rehearsal studio. All I want to do is to hold him and take care of him, like he had done for me.

“Let’s go. The day isn’t over, right?” I flash him a smile, and the one he mirrors indicates his surrender.

Outside, the setting sun hides behind a huge, grey cloud, and we walk along the wooden planks of the pier as tiny water droplets kiss my cheeks. Behind my veil of rain, I can be bold.

“Hold on a minute.” We stop, and I take a deep breath, drawing strength from the rain and the kind concern behind his honey-green gaze. It’s never going to be easy to admit my feelings, and it doesn’t help that I’ve chosen the background noise of rainfall to shout over, but I can’t go another second without facing my truth.

“What I meant to say in there was that I need you. I need us. I’ve always looked for clouds in clear skies, but you calm the storm in my soul, Danny. You taught me how to love and respect myself. I tried so hard to protect myself, but it only proved pointless. I don’t regret anything that did or didn’t happen between us. The tears, the pain, the emptiness, the heartbreak. All of it was worth it. Because I experienced what it was like to be without you, and I know that’s the complete opposite of what I want. You gave me back my power, and above all, you helped me feel safe again.”

He looks at me like it’s the first time ever, like everything about this is brand new. We could start again.

We can do this. Be bold, Sophia.

“I love you. So much,” I say.

He cups my cheeks, pressing me up against the cool metal railings overlooking the ocean. Soon, his hands are tangled in my damp hair, and he’s kissing me hard, warming my entire body with every flick of his tongue.

By the time we come up for air, we’re both rain-soaked and completely smitten. Running through the downpour, we find shelter in his car.

With a dripping wet face, he turns to face me. “Are you hungry, DeLuca?” His voice is barely audible over the blanket of rain on the windscreen.

“I could eat. You?”

He flashes his dimples. “I could eat you.”

“Is that a promise?” I ask, brows raised.

“Absofuckinglutely.”

With Amelia still out, we made good use of the kitchen island, the couch and the bedroom, and didn’t waste any resources making up for lost time. I barely had time to bask in my afterglow before Danny had me chopping garlic and parsley in the kitchen while he filled the shells of a mini muffin pan with the periwinkles, topping them with garlic butter and toasted breadcrumbs—seemingly right on schedule. While we wait for them to cook in the oven, he prepares a salad, and I set the table.

---